


Bite-Sized Delicacy

by cloudycelebrations



Series: Soft Dick Kink 2020 [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A Smidge of Bisexuality, Banned Together Bingo 2020, Banned Together Bingo Fill: Vulgar Trash, Body Worship, Brief mention of somnophilia, Cock Worship, Embarrassment, Enthusiastic Consent, Erotic Fantasies, Established Relationship, Food, Forbidden Snacks, M/M, Mentions of past erectile dysfunction, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sam Wilson Eats Ice Cream, Sexual Content, Therapy, Wholesome Vulgarity, penis - Freeform, soft dick kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24869761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudycelebrations/pseuds/cloudycelebrations
Summary: Sam Wilson knows this is not a real problem, but could Steve please cool it for five entire minutes, hell, even one minute, so Sam can appreciate that superdick while it’s soft?Written for “Vulgar Trash” bingo square for Banned Together Bingo 2020 even though it's on hiatus. Also tagged "Wholesome Vulgarity" because I reject the censor who would call loving descriptions of penises "vulgar trash".Thanks so much to Ladra (https://twitter.com/ladraove) and D4tD for beta reading!
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Series: Soft Dick Kink 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861948
Comments: 26
Kudos: 85
Collections: Banned Banned Together Bingo 2020, Banned Together Bingo 2020





	Bite-Sized Delicacy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justanotherStonyfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherStonyfan/gifts).



Sam Wilson knows about real problems. He is well aware: this is not one of them. 

His relationship with Steve couldn’t be smoother, at least in the bedroom. (Outside of it, he does get pretty pissed when Steve comes home covered in bruises and gnarly wounds from not behaving with any semblance of caution in the field, but that’s Steve even if he’s trying. Anyway.) No matter what is happening outside their walls, Steve can and will do it any way that Sam wants, at any time of day or night, and is always ready to go. Just being in the same room as Sam makes Steve hard as calculus. On top of that, he never minds at all if Sam doesn’t feel like it and instead wants a firm cuddle or a heavenly massage, which Steve is more than happy to dish out. He has no doubt how Steve feels about him, and Steve is always earnestly telling him how much he loves him. Sometimes Sam can’t get him to shut up about it. He’ll argue up a storm for any reason, but Sam knows it’s a thin, hard crust over a kind and gooey inside. So it’s smooth sailing. 

Except for one small thing.

Sam’s life is already ten more scoops of stress than he ordered on his sundae, and most days it’s melting all over the place. He can’t eat such a huge portion fast enough. For one, any social worker who claims they can leave thoughts of their clients entirely at work is either lying or has reached nirvana. His mind begs him for a time-out from the constant negativity and secondary trauma. When he can block out those thoughts, in come the unwelcome others: the non-profit industrial complex, the military industrial complex, fighting imperialist wars for a country that doesn’t give a shit about him or his family. 

So he finds himself daydreaming about the furthest thing from that, the tantalizing sight he most wants to see, that chocolate-dipped cherry on his ice cream. He can visualize his gentle, thoughtful Steve, naked and unaware, maybe even asleep, in the very elusive moments when Steve’s dick is not raring to go. Relaxed, calm, unassuming. Because as soon as Steve sees him, undoubtedly they’re smiling softly at each other, so comfortable, arms reaching out, and instantly that grower becomes a show-er. It’s flattering, for sure, and of course it’s welcome and beloved and desired (and good Lord, is it talented at what it does), but it means he never gets to see Steve soft. By the time he could mention it, Steve would already be hard as a reflex. Probably serum-related circulation shit is going on there. 

He can’t bring himself to ask Steve, “Can you please not get hard for me so I can stare at and touch and suck on your flaccid dick?” He long ago came to terms with his bisexuality and is open enough about it, proud even, but in these moments, in his head, Sam sees an image of himself in the mirror saying, “Gay. Gay. You are being so gay right now. It’s dicks all the way down for you. Admit it. Soft, squishy dicks on big, tough muscle-boys. And you want to eat them up like ice cream, don’t you?” 

Sam knows he’s delicious himself, certainly hot enough to inspire boners galore, but could Steve please cool it for five entire minutes, hell, even one minute, so Sam can appreciate that superdick while it’s soft? 

He can picture that giant body, with such exaggerated muscles, dwarfing an uninterested cock. It’s so... vulnerable. Tiny. Innocent, but really not. Appealing in its casualness. Humorous in a way, sexual in another, yet not offering any commentary at all. Neutral, with no expectations. Frankly, it’s adorable. He wants to eat it, or at least nibble on it. Fill his mouth with it and roll it around on his tongue. Suck the cream out. It’s the fanciest, most decadent mini-dessert on the secret menu, served on a massive, gorgeous plate. He’s tasted Steve so many times, but never when it’s like this. Maybe it’s salty-sweet, a subtle taste, or maybe it’s rich with Steve’s intoxicating pheromones. It looks chewy and wrinkled and juicy. Tender and delicate. Jesus, this is why Sam can’t have succulent cacti. 

Out of all the things in the world to want, why does he even care about this? It’s so stupid of him. Of course, the forbidden aspect makes him want it even more. 

As he walks to the ice cream shop to satisfy one of his cravings, Sam contemplates exactly what his therapist would say: “Why do you need a reason to want something harmless?” And they’d be correct. 

The thing is, Sam doesn’t only want to look at it. He wants to rub it, squeeze it, lick it, touch it, jack it, anything, but he knows Steve won’t be able to stay soft for longer than a few seconds. Even after he’s just come, Steve is usually ready to go again, and again, or else he’s wiped out and napping. Even when Steve thinks he’s limp, he’s actually partially hard. If you experience an erection lasting longer than four hours, you’re Steve Rogers.

So that leaves times when Steve is asleep, and half of the time he’s erect even in his sleep. Despite the appeal in theory, the thought of actually touching Steve while he’s asleep makes Sam’s stomach turn. Even though Steve would probably let him do it, give him permission while awake, get that sweet, confused look on his face where he’s wondering if this is a Sam thing or a Modern Times thing he hasn’t heard of. 

Is it weird that thinking about Steve’s soft-on gives him such a hard-on? Shouldn’t he prefer or appreciate that Steve is hard for him, tactile and visible evidence of his status: comfort, health, happiness, arousal?

Sam can see his therapist raising their eyebrows at him. God, he loves and hates Dani. It’s like they can sense exactly what real-world, Actually Serious problem he’s really thinking about when he says something weird, like that he feels guilty about drying his butt on Steve’s giant fluffy towel instead of his own smaller one. They might ask if this has anything to do with his experiences with erectile dysfunction after coming back from deployment, owning it, overcoming it, relating to it, and now desiring it for the first time in a healthier context. If he’s feeling pressure from Steve for sex, or to be able to perform comparably with a supersoldier. If it’s a sign he wants to slow down and enjoy more nonsexual things with his life partner. If he’s feeling kinky and this is merely a new kink. If it has to have an origin or if it’s a simple desire for a new experience. 

Sam guesses that when he can hear his therapist talking in his head, the therapy is probably working. 

His daydreams are an escape from certain parts of reality that he doesn’t want to dwell on, he knows that. They get more elaborate as time goes on. He starts imagining ways Steve could try to stay soft: a cold bath and shivering, lying back and trembling with the effort of not getting hard, thinking about unpleasant things... 

Okay, the daydreams are a fun pastime and top-notch wanking fodder, but he’s going to take his brain-therapist’s pre-suggestion and just be real and go talk to Steve about it. He pats himself on the back and gives himself a $30 copay. American for-profit healthcare can go fuck itself.

So one evening at the dinner table, Sam lets it all hang out. After a warning so Steve won’t spit out his protein shake mid-reveal, he tells him every naughty detail. But not about how he wants to eat that dick, in some kind of metaphorical way. That he can savor all on his own. Steve might get the wrong idea. 

As he predicted, Steve is not upset at all. He’s blushing a lot, with a confused lift to his eyebrows and clearly trying not to laugh. 

“All right, there it is. What do you think? Am I nuts? Tell me I’m not nuts.” 

“Um, is it bad that this is making me hard?” 

Sam bursts out laughing. “No!” 

Steve laughs softly. “It’s a shame you didn’t know me before the serum. I couldn’t get it up nearly as often as I wanted to.” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Does it bring up unpleasant issues for you? Just tell me if it’s too much and I can drop it.”

“No, it’s not that. And by the way, thinking about disturbing stuff doesn’t, uh, doesn’t make me get soft. Believe me, sometimes the wires get crossed and it’s not fun. But hey, give me some time to think about it and I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Thanks, babe. Take all the time you need.”

“In the meantime, um...” Steve shifts in his chair. 

“You want me?” Sam waggles his eyebrows. 

Steve shakes himself a little. “God, I want you so bad.” 

“Well, when you put it that way.” Sam pulls him up and into his arms.

They make out like teenagers and grind in the kitchen until they physically can’t anymore, and then Steve drags them to the bedroom. Sam rides that thick cock into oblivion, infinitely grateful for its rigid girth, dreaming of it limp and defenseless. The dissonance lights him up, and Steve’s acceptance and enthusiasm always warms his entire body through and through. As Sam's legs start trembling, Steve holds him up, wraps him up in his arms, kisses him senseless without slowing his thrusts at all. Sam can’t get enough. When he comes, it’s with a sweet taste in his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment and tell me what you think. :) I have some ideas for a sequel in mind!


End file.
